


Parental Troubles

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [246]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Child Allison Argent, Child Isaac Lahey, Child Jackson Whittemore, Child Malia Tate, Child Stiles Stilinski, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Married Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Parents Chris Argent & Peter Hale, naughty children - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 14:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20780036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Five little figures sat on the familiar couch, each child the perfect image of innocence where they sat together facing their parents, almost all of them bound by an oath not to reveal which one of them had eaten the gingerbread house or who it was that had found the presents hidden, nor how many of them had been involved in unwrapping said gifts.





	Parental Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> There is a reason why I prefer to travel alone, one is that a lone travel can move quickly and easily through territories and difficult terrain, which seems impossible to do with your lot at my heels. The second is the silence, the peace, and the fact that I am not dragged into unwanted conversation by stubborn children like you. You’ve paid me to get you to your destination, you have not paid me to speak with you. 
> 
> This round of 15Minutes took place back in the early days of August, but due to issues such as my failure to upload the stories created in August, I am now trying to right the wrong I unintentionally did. 
> 
> Greetings to all, now those of you familiar with this series and the rules of it, please make your way down to A Change, while the rest of you listen-up and listen-good because this might save you a lot of time and unwanted pain. These stories are my payment to my friends, and each story is written in 15minutes, and thus you’ll find no glorious works here but rather hastily written nonsense. Now, if you can’t handle poor storytelling, bad grammar and horrendous typos, then leave now and save yourself unwanted piece for all those things will be found in my stories. However, if you lunatic still want to give my story a go after all my warnings, well, you are welcome to move to A Change, since there’s still something you need to know. 
> 
> A CHANGE has happened, not a massive one, but a small one. This change is the introduction of a theme, such as the one you’ll find in this story, the theme is Creature. Now, ALittlePinkShipExploring wished for a story where Chris and Peter are raising a bunch of little kids, big sister Allison is human, Isaac is a werewolf, Malia is well Malia, and then we have Jackson who is a half-breed or just a Kanima, and then we have baby Stiles who has seemed to be human but turns out he isn’t, and she wanted this to be a sort of Christmas fic too…. Gods why do you punish me so?

The house, inside and out, was decorated for Christmas and had been immediately after Thanksgiving. There were garlands and wreaths, ribbons and bows, ornaments of all shapes and sizes and perhaps far too many Santa figurines, small and large reindeers some sparkling others simply made of wood decorated the house, there were curtains and decorative pillows all declaring in appearance alone _Christmas is near and soon to be here_. There were Christmas lights all around, some simple in colour and shape, others elaborate in colour and shape, some flickering softly while others remained steady in their gentle glow. There were plenty of flowers too, some large with not so delicate petals while others were perfectly delicate looking, some dusted with glitter, there were plenty of Christmas Trees too the biggest one in the living-room, there was almost a tree in every room, each decorated in their own special way, some were dusted white others were lush and green, a silver one stood in the master bedroom while a pink one was housed in the shared bedroom of the Argent-Hale daughters.

To say that the Argent-Hale household didn’t take Christmas seriously that would be an outright lie, for Peter Argent-Hale took each holiday seriously but Christmas especially, Christmas held a special place in his heart, not only had his husband asked him to marry him on Christmas day, but Chris had also agreed that it was time to make the giant leap to parenthood one Christmas morning years and years ago; Chris being ready to start a family with Peter had been a pleasant surprised to Peter, the werewolf had by then already spent two-years silently wishing for a future with little ones running around, it had also been on Christmas Eve that they’d brought their first-born home.

So, yes, Christmas was a very special time of the year for the Argent-Hale family.

Still, with a family as large as the Argent-Hale one, things were bound to go a little crazy from time to time, proven no less by the already opened presents in the armoury, as did the crumbs left behind from the otherwise completely devoured gingerbread house that had once stood proudly in the foyer.

Crossing his arms and standing as tall as possible, still wearing faded black tee he’d been sleeping in, the tattoo he’d drunkenly got way back when he was still young and eager to defy the rules of his father peeking out from beneath the slightly frayed sleeve as he crossed his arms and stared down at his children. With the skill of a man his age, one experienced with having to be the actual disciplinarian of their rambunctious family, Christopher Argent-Hale put on his most stern of expressions even while still feeling anything but wide-awake.

`Alright. ´ the father of five said, voice solid and free of any hints of exhaustion of frustration, `Who was it? ´

`Who was what? ´ his eldest asked, which was not a great surprised to either Chris or Peter since Allison was often the one to speak first in situations like these.

`Who broke into the armoury? ´ Chris asks, and he really does want the answer to this one since the armoury downstairs in the basement was no place for children as young as his.

`_And_, ´ Peter continued from fright next to him, bed-hair in full display, `who ate the gingerbread house? ´

Chris resisted the urge to give his husband the classic, “Are you kidding me?” looks since the destruction of a gingerbread house was hardly the pressing matter at the moment, the fact that there children had entered the armoury, a place full of deadly weapons should be their top priority to solve.

Faced with these two questions, four of their five children stilled, the youngest moving about where he sat in Allison’s lap, eyes big as he stared over at the TV where a muted cartoon still played.

`Stiles did it. ´ Isaac declared after a minute of intense silence, Isaac was always the first to crumble, although tonight it seemed Isaac decided to tell an outrageous lie, one which neither parent believed for a second; there was no way a two-year old had broken into the armoury _and _devoured an entire gingerbread house.

`Oh my God, Isaac! ´ Malia snapped at her older-brother, `You can’t blame everything on Stiles. ´

`Fine, ´ Isaac crumbled from where he was seated at the other end of the couch, probably glad to have Jackson sitting between him and Malia right about now, `But it’s not like they are going to believe us anyways, who would believe that he punched in the right code to the door. ´

`ISAAC!? ´ everyone but Stiles snapped, although the loud noise did startle the little boy who started to cry immediately covering his little ears with his tiny hands.

`We are seriously going to need to have a talk with you Isaac about trying to get Stiles in trouble. ´ Chris sighed, feeling rather done with the way Isaac would blame Stiles who had yet to start talking for everything.

`Oh, that wasn’t a lie. ´ Peter says as he moves over to pick-up the baby of the family, and Stiles was more than happy to be held and comforted by one of the grown-ups, the little one always settling down faster when held by his parents. Even before Peter moved to pick their littlest one, Stiles had already begun to reach towards the parent that spent the most amount of time with him, mostly due to Peter often working from his home office and even when he had to go into his office in town, Peter would always take Stiles with him.

`What? ´ Chris asks, feeling certain he’d misheard his husband say Isaac hadn’t been telling tales again.

`Isaac’s heart didn’t skip a beat when he said Stiles figured out how to open that door of yours. ´ Peter said while cradling their son in his arms, planting a kiss on the now tearstained cheek.

Unlike the four of the other kids, Stiles wasn’t by blood either Chris’ or Peter’s, the boy had been gifted to them after Chris saved the Stilinski pack from complete ruin after a group of rouge hunters decided to decimate the pack, Stiles was most definitely one of the most precious gifts given to them and one left orphaned as both of his very human parents were brutally murdered; but although the little human with big brown eyes wasn’t by blood bound to either Peter or Chris or their other children, the size of their love for the baby was no less great.

`How is that even possible? ´ Chris asks, still struggling to believe that his baby boy could manage to gain access to armoury on his own, Stiles didn’t even speak for heaven’s sake. 

`I don’t know. He just touched the screen and then… well, beep. ´ Isaac went on to say to the great dismay of his siblings, well, all but one since Stiles seemed perfectly content in Peter’s arms. 

`Beep? ´ Chris repeats twice, before declaring that it was impossible to get the door open by just touching it, going into great details about scans and whatnot that didn’t interest the four children still sitting before him.

`He touch the door. He just touched the door. ´ Jackson says, clearly deciding to try and diminish his own punishment by leaping on Isaac’s confession train.

`He touched the door? ´ Chris asks in frustrated disbelief, days of travelling and now facing this whole confusing state of affairs finally becoming a little bit too much, exhausted he takes a seat in one of the comfortable reading chairs.

`Yeah, it was super weird. ´ Jackson goes on to say, his thinking or in this case remembering face on full-force, `You know how he smells like cinnamon and apple-pie? ´

`Honey and the woods too. ´ Malia pipes in, to which Jackson just nods.

`Well, he smelled like lightning and iron when the door opened. ´ Jackson goes on to say, looking over at his baby brother who was now sucking quietly on his own thumb and rubbing his tear and snot stained face against daddy-Peter’s chest.

`And like earthy, like the garden in spring when dad starts planting things. ´ Malia says at the same time as Isaac declares he’d smelled something like burned plastic too in the air.

`Are they trying to play a joke on me? ´ Chris asks, looking up at his husband, almost hoping this was just a way too early or late April Fools thing, but just one look at Peter told him this was no elaborate joke being played on him.

`Sorry, love, but no. ´ Peter says, gazing down at the child that Chris had come home with one early morning almost two years ago, looking exhausted and carrying a wailing infant and a bag full of diapers and formula for the baby; thankfully most of Isaac’s and Jackson’s baby-things such as crib and bibs were still up in the attic waiting to either be used again or to be handed down to someone who needed them more, once Peter had the heart to let them go.

`Oh fudge. ´ Chris groans, feeling too worn-down to even try and figure out what possible creature or form of power his youngest could be or possess, but whatever it was it couldn’t be that much harder to handle than raising a future huntress, a were-coyote, a former kanima-werewolf hybrid and a werewolf.

`So, you’ve got a bit of magic in you. ´ Peter beams proudly at the child in his arms, `I always knew you were a special little spark. ´ Chris can’t help but smile a little at that, he’s not all that surprised to find Peter more happy than worried about what the magic that their little bundle of joy possessed might cause. Without Peter’s rather easy-going nature when it came to their children, Chris would’ve probably already stressed his own ass to an early grave, without Peter, not that he wasn’t constantly worrying about his family because of course he did, but knowing that his partner in life was around and capable eased some of the worry inside of him.

Peter made it easy to believe that everything would be fine, and Peter would always make him believe everything would be alright not matter how reluctant Chris might be to the idea of everything working out.

`So, Stiles isn’t human? ´ Malia asks after a little while of silence that was unusual at this hour of the day in the Argent-Hale house.

`He is still very human. ´ Peter replies smiling over at the little girl who most nights still either crawled into bed with him and his husband or with one of her other siblings.

Past experiences of colds that always seemed to latch on tightly to Stiles’ little lunges, were enough to convince Peter that the youngest member of his little family was at least by body very human, but there was clearly just a little bit magic in the child too which was perfectly fine with him. 

`He’s just a very special little human. ´ Peter goes on to say, voice soft and loving.

`Of course he is, he’s one of us. ´ Jackson declares like only and idiot would think Stiles wouldn’t be something more than just a boring little human. 

`Now, to the more serious question of the day´ Peter says after a short pause, flashing his eyes as he focused on the children that usually could get away with murder if Chris wasn’t around to be the “not-fun-parent”, his voice a low growl as he continued, ` which of you ate my gingerbread house? ´


End file.
